


Lyrium Effects

by DictionaryWrites



Series: Consequences Of Failure [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Anal Sex, Lyrium, M/M, Restraints, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 19:40:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1660106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The scene between Fenris and Zevran in the first part of The Consequences of Failure, blown out as a full explicit scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lyrium Effects

With the plug gone, Zevran feels so wet, so empty, so desperate to be filled. So it is with eagerness that he climbs into Fenris' lap – the other elf has removed his armour, all of it, and Zevran is grateful. Fenris is _warm,_ and he is a fantastic kisser: Zevran does not know for how long he stays in Fenris' lap, the other's lips warm against his own.

He does not care for the encyclopaedia of Fenris' he had thrown aside – Fenris glances to it, and Zevran growls, dragging his teeth over Fenris' neck in order to grasp his attention.

And then Fenris thrusts him back, so Zevran is on his back on the floor, and Fenris catches Zevran by the wrists, holding him down. Zevran loves the feeling of being pinned, of letting Fenris take control: he adores this.

But then Fenris lines himself up, pressing in, and Zevran chokes out a noise. It is a long time since he has been fucked at all, and Fenris is _very_ thick. Zevran is left letting out soft noises, initially, but then Fenris begins to thrust, quickly, deeply, and Zevran's soft whimpers become louder. Danarius and Georgina are watching them, and it's as if their gazes make Zevran feel twice the pleasure.

He wants to come. He _needs_ to come.

He is not allowed.

Fenris grunts against his neck, and then he _bites_ at the flesh there: Zevran lets out a loud noise, arching his back and letting his head drop back. His cock rubs against the other's stomach due to the way they're pressed together, and it is the most _exquisite_ agony Zevran has experienced in all his years.

Fenris' teeth feel so  _good_ , dragging over the muscle of Zevran's flesh, and then he holds Zevran's wrists with just the one hand in order that his other can pinch at the smaller elf's nipples. Zevran yelps, the cry loud, and Fenris  _grins._ Bastard.

His thrusts are  _worse_ , for they aren't truly all that fast, but they are rhythmic and deep, and they press against the  _best_ parts inside Zevran, making him draw out choked little noises from the smaller man. 

“ _Fenris_ -”

“Shut up.” Fenris purrs, and then he catches Zevran's lips under his own, putting both his hands over the other's wrists again, and speeds his pace. Zevran is left letting out loud, plaintive whines into the other's mouth, thrusting himself up for more.

Fenris then goes silent, as if concentrating; occasionally he lets out a grunt that is muffled against the flesh of the older slave's shoulder. Georgina and Danarius are  _rapt_ , and Zevran is proud, but when Fenris leans back slightly he seems so very  _ smug. _ Why is he smug?

Fenris comes with a quiet groan, and Zevran feels him  _ pulse _ – it is an odd sensation, one that he hasn't felt for a long time; Fenris still looks smug, and Danarius and Georgina look like they too are sharing some private joke. What is it? Why are they-  _ **oh.** _

He is on  _ fire. _

The sensation is utterly electric, tingling through his body with all the intensity of a shock, and he cries out, grasping tightly at Fenris as the other man releases his wrists. His insides, his skin, all of him feels so  _ hot _ , as if he might burst with it, and he is crying out, screaming – it is still pleasurable. It is the worst, best pleasure he has ever felt.

He feels he is soaring through air, light-headed, weightless, as if Fenris is the only thing holding him down – and Zevran is grasping at the other so very tightly, after all, fingernails dug into the other's shulders as he arches and yowls. He is breathing so fast, so fast, so many sweet, rapid breaths – dear  _ Maker _ , what is this?

“That's the lyrium.” He hears Georgina say through his haze of so  _ high _ , and he whimpers, holding onto Fenris even tighter. This is new. He has never felt anything like this before, although he has been alive for forty years.

He wants to cry, overwhelmed with it.

But he does not come.

 


End file.
